


Days of Future Passed

by Mrs_Spooky



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-07 04:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6786190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Spooky/pseuds/Mrs_Spooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike goes undercover to rescue a boy from an up and coming syndicate</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

That was a strange call. Out of the blue, an acquaintance from Wexfordshire on Europa had contacted Jet. He sounded desperate. Said he needed help and didn't know where else to turn.

He stared pensively out the window in the bridge, parked in the captain's chair, feet up on the console. They were a day and a half from Europa and there was time to kill before he would get the whole story from Mike. Mike Simmons is a local cop in Wexfordshire who had given Jet the support he needed to bring in the smuggler he was after. The local police in this case were antagonistic towards the ISSP detectives due to some blunders made by the liaison officer making contact with them. Mike did his job and helped out. Jet got his man. 

The bounties were scarce the last few weeks and money was tight, which meant he had to cut back on food, which displeased his partner greatly. Jet sighed. Mike said he wouldn't be able to pay him for his help, but could help cover expenses. Not having anything else to do, and curious about why Mike would contact him, he agreed to meet him.

Stomach rumbled. Jet checked the ship's chronometer and saw that it was time to eat. He gave himself a little push and floated out of the char.  Grabbing the railing, he twisted his body around, magnetic boots affixing themselves to the floor. 

He entered the living area to find his partner in sweat pants in his usual position, sprawled on the sofa. He was lying on his back staring expressionlessly at the ceiling, cigarette sticking out of his mouth. He drew on the cigarette, blowing smoke from his nose. 

"Hey, feel like dinner?"  
  
"I always feel like dinner. And lunch." Chuckle "AND breakfast."

Jet shook his head, the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips. "I hear ya. Be about twenty minutes." Slender hand was raised in a small wave of thanks. Jet headed to the galley to fire up the stove.   _What the hell does he think about?_  Jet doubted that he'd ever tell him.

Spike resumed his musings. His old life in the syndicate felt unreal, like a dream he had but couldn't shake off. Or is THIS the dream?  _Am I going to wake up in my old bed in Tarsis to find hunting bounties, the Bebop and Jet were all a dream?_

Sometimes, he'd close his eyes at night wondering where he was going to be when he opened them again in the morning. The tiny room on the big old fishing ship and the sounds of his partner moving about reassured him that he was still a bounty hunter, but how long will that last?

Spike shook himself.   He decided he'd spent enough time on the 'meaning of life' bullshit that was occupying him at the moment and jumped up off the couch and headed to the shower.

***

The Bebop reached Europa. Jet was given a slot in the colony's orbit then sped off in his Hammerhead. He told Spike he didn't have to come with him, he wouldn't be long. It was fine with him. "Mind if I borrow another book?" Yeah sure, help yourself.

Mike was called. He asked Jet to meet him at a restaurant at the north end of town. Jet walked in out of the chill of the late-autumn noon and found Mike Simmons already there, waiting for him. The trim, blond haired blue-eyed man looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks.

"Good to see you again, Mike! What's this all about?"  
  
Mike sighed. "It's my kid brother Toby. He just turned fifteen a few months ago. Had been giving my parents trouble ever since he hit puberty. You know kids…." 

Jet nodded. He sure did!

Mike continued, "I tried working with him. He's very independent, thinks he knows it all. Won't listen to mom or dad and he thinks only about himself." He sighed, looking out the window. "About a month ago, he was caught stealing again. Dad had enough and threw him out of the house. That's the last we've seen of him." He reached into his pocket and fished out a recent photo and handed it to Jet. "This is his picture, it was taken a week before he left." 

Jet examined the photograph. It showed a sullen, blond haired boy, very thin. Very pale. Mike went on, "He started hanging out with these older kids.  I don't like the looks of them. I met one of them, a nineteen year old named Greg Lynch. He looks like trouble."

"What do you know about this kid? Who does HE hang out with?" Jet asked.  
  
"Word has come down that there is a syndicate forming - or TRYING to form. They may be a little more organised than the typical gang. Call themselves 'Golden Asp'." Jet rolled his eyes. Mike snorted, "Yeah. Their leadership appears to be trying to model the Golden Asp on some of the Martian syndicates. Don't know how far they've gotten yet, but I have reason to believe they're recruiting. Jet… I think they're trying to recruit Toby." 

The coffee that Mike had ordered for them was delivered. As soon as the waitress left, "I have to get him out of there! Jet, I have nobody to turn to. The police won't do anything because they've broken no laws.  Yet. The kids know me, know I'm a cop, and I won't be able to get NEAR my brother. I know you're a bounty hunter now, and I can't pay a bounty on him, but I can cover expenses. We can't drag him home, he needs to leave on his own. Maybe you can talk to him."

_He won't listen to me,_  Jet thought, but wondered if Spike would be willing to help.   _I can't commit him without talking to him about it._

Jet sighed. "I owe you a lot for the help you gave me on the Riann case. I don't know if I will be able to influence your brother, but I have a partner who may be able to help. I can't speak for him without talking to him first. Can I get back to you?"

Mike eyes were pleading, "If you could, I'd appreciate it! I'm just so afraid of the trouble he's going to get himself into. Please make it soon if you can!"

***

Jet's mood was dark as he headed back to the Bebop. Mike must have been desperate if he'd call him after all this time.   _If this is something that can be done quickly then be on our way, maybe Spike would be willing to help._

He disembarked from the Hammerhead and searched out his partner. He found Spike on the couch, nose buried in the book he borrowed about Ella Fitzgerald. He looked up as Jet entered the room.

"Hey. 'Sup? Did you meet your friend?"  
  
"Yeah. He needs help with his kid brother. I thought maybe we could do something for him."  
  
"What kind of help?"

Jet sat down and showed Spike the photo that Mike had given him. He studied it. Jet filled him in on what Mike had told him about his kid brother and his possible involvement with a growing syndicate called Golden Asp. 

Spike listened, shaking his head. "Sounds like they're trying to model themselves after the Martian syndicates" he said. 

Jet responded that's what he and Mike were thinking as well.

Spike put down the book he was reading and lit a cigarette, staring off into space. Then nodded. "Red Dragon is one that's famous for recruiting children. This Greg Lynch character might be a sponsor. They take homeless kids under their wing. Take them in, take care of them, show them the ropes, then eventually put them to work." He looked up at Jet, who nodded. 

"You're from the Red Dragon, aren't you?" Jet asked. Spike didn't answer. 

"We can't just go in there and drag the kid out. He has to be convinced to leave, otherwise he'll go right back," Spike said. He looked up at his partner through his eyebrows, "And your friend needs someone to convince him he wants to leave. Is that it?"

Jet lowered his face and ran his hand over his head, sighing. "Yeah, that's it in a nutshell. I didn't tell him we'd do it. The kid wouldn't listen to me. He'd need to hear it from …" 

"Someone who's been there?" Spike interrupted. 

"No, from someone closer to his own age. And yes, being someone who's been there, you would know how to talk to him. IF you're willing, that is."

Jet was unsure whether this was a good idea. He didn't want Mike's kid brother involved with the syndicate, but he had to consider his partner's well being as well. Spike could pass for a teenager with no problem, but his refusal to talk about himself made Jet wonder if there weren't a lot of painful memories associated with his past. Were those memories the source of his nightmares?

Spike studied the kid in the photograph.   _He's not gonna wanna go home._  From the look on the kid's face, it looked to him like the kid had already left home before he was thrown out of the house.

Aware of Jet's unwavering gaze, Spike sighed and sat back, puffing on his cigarette. "You owe this guy, don't you?" Jet nodded.

"I owe him, but you don't. You're the one that's gonna have to go in there and talk to the kid. Personally, I don't think it's a good idea."

Spike returned his look. "Why not? Think I can't handle it?"  
  
"Of course you can HANDLE it…"  
  
"Then what?"

Jet didn't answer, not wanting to voice his worry. Spike rose and shoved fists into his pockets, declaring that he was going to change. "Call your friend, I want to meet him. I have some questions for him before I find his brother."

As he was leaving, Jet found his voice to say what was on his mind "Do you ever regret leaving the syndicate?"  
  
Spike paused, "What?"  
  
"Why did you leave?"

Without turning around, Spike asked quietly "Did you ever have a dream that you tried to wake up from? But couldn't?"  
  
Remembering, Jet said, "Yes. Yes I have. But I always woke up."

"You're lucky."


	2. Chapter 2

A sudden surge of hope washed over Mike Simmons when he got the call from Jet. His partner agreed to try to talk to Toby and wanted to meet him.   _That was quick, it was only an hour since I spoke to him. Thank GOD!!_

He gave Jet his home address and waited. 

The door bell rang about an hour  and a half later. Answering the door, he found Jet standing there with a young kid. He didn't look a day over seventeen - tall, thin Japanese kid with wild green hair, clad in green dungarees and t shirt with a brown leather bomber jacket.  _Holy shit, where did he find HIM?? That's his partner?_

Eagerly he ushered them in, offering drinks. Tea, coffee? No thanks. He invited them to sit. Jet introduced his partner as Spike. "Spike! So glad to meet you. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help." The young man just nodded. He was serious, but looked pleasant enough. Jet was trying unsuccessfully to hide his unhappiness.

Spike got down to business. "What does Toby like to do? Does he play games? What sort of place does he hang out in? What kind of music does he like?"

"He loves playing pool. He's pretty good at it too" Simmons started off proudly. Spike smiled faintly. "He's too young to get into clubs, but he likes this hard core dance music the kids love to listen to these days." He caught himself, "Not that it's BAD… just not to my taste." 

Jet's young partner just smiled. "I understand.  What about this Lynch guy. Know anything about him?" 

Simmons thought about it. "I guess he's into the same things Toby is. That's how they met." No, he didn't know where Lynch lived. Sorry.

Spike asked Simmons what he knew about this Golden Asp.  He sighed "They're trying to model themselves after the Martian syndicates. We first got wind of their existence about nine months ago.  Homeless kids, mostly runaways, started showing up dead, some of them shot execution-style.  We suspect they were involved with this group."

"Do you know if they imported any people?  Or are they using home-grown talent?"  
  
"Home grown. Their leadership has been careful to stay out of the dirty work that's being done on their behalf, but some of them had been spending a lot of time on Mars the last year or two. I'm sure they're consulting and bringing back what they learned."

Spike rose, stuck hands in pockets and headed towards the door. "Thanks. I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best. Seeya."  
  
"Sp-Spike wait!" Jet jumped to his feet and followed him to the door. "When are you gonna be back?"  
  
Spike stopped and shrugged. "Dunno. I may be gone all night, depending." He turned and smiled "Don't wait up."

Jet had a hold of his arm, "Just check in, ok? Let me know how things are going, that's all I ask." 

Spike looked back at him, saw the worry there. He nodded. "I'll try. I promise."

Then he was gone.

Jet stood at the door, seething.   _Shit! Why did I even bring it up to him?_  He wasn't sure exactly what he was worried about. Spike of all people had experience with the sort that would recruit youngsters into the syndicates. He would know how to talk to them, ingratiate himself, pass himself off as whatever he needed to be to get the job done. He regretted asking Spike those questions back on the Bebop, it was almost as if he didn't trust him. He hoped Spike didn't get that impression. Sighing, he turned and looked at this man he hardly knew who had asked such a great favor from him.

"Where did you find that boy? Is he ex ISSP too?" Jet rubbed his forehead. 

"No. He's not." He paused, searching for the right words, "He's… just very experienced with… kids in trouble."

He looked at Mike, saw the look of desperation on his face. "He's older than he looks. He's twenty four. If anyone can talk to your brother, he can."

  
Mike examined Jet's face and understood, "All we can do now is wait and hope for the best."

***

The Swordfish soared over Wexfordshire, Spike searching for the shabbier parts of town. Sponsors had cash to flash to impress the kids they wanted to attract, but once they had a new recruit, they got frugal. Toby had been missing for at least a month, which means they were probably done with the flash and were ready to get down to business. He was good at finding the parts of town that held the pool halls and clubs that wouldn't mind accommodating those who were not of legal drinking age, having been there himself.

There was no way of knowing what they had planned for the Simmons boy. Combat training for an enforcer? Maybe use him as a mule for smuggling drugs? Smuggling and drug trafficking were ground floor activities for syndicates just starting out, and they'll need people to move the merchandise. Those folks were usually expendable. 

Spike spotted a likely neighborhood, then found a place to land the Swordfish several blocks away. He climbed out of his speeder, then started walking, thinking. Jet was sure acting strangely. He owed the guy a favor, and yeah, this guy Simmons sure needed one. Protect a kid from being enslaved by the syndicates? Nobody had to ask Spike twice. Jet was his partner.  As far as he was concerned, if Jet owes this guy, then so does he. But what the hell was it with Jet and his questions on the Bebop?   _Does he think I'll join them? Doesn't he trust me?_  He shook his head. 

He wandered the neighborhood, making note of where everything was. There were three bars and only one pool hall. That's a gift! Lighting a cigarette, he sauntered into the pool hall and looked around. It was by now early evening and there were about a half dozen young people about, laughing it up through their beers, playing each other for chump change. 

Spike hit the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender hardly glanced at him before handing him the bottle. Working the beer and cigarette, Spike headed towards the tables, checking the faces of the people around him. No Toby. He had no idea what this Lynch character looked like, so he'd have to wing it. He wandered over to the tables. There wasn't anyone waiting for someone to play with, so he just watched. He did get curious looks from the other patrons. There weren't many Japanese people on Europa, so he WOULD stick out.

The game he was watching ended when one player sank the balls he needed to. His opponent, out of cash, grumbled good-naturedly, "I'll get you next time!" 

Smiles from the winner. The winner wasn't done playing yet, looked around for a new opponent then found Spike, standing by himself. "How about you? Up for a game?"

Spike loved pool, and smiled. "Sure. You look like the man to beat." 

The young man laughed "Yep, that would be me!"

Spike pulled out a ten. His opponent, a beefy nineteen year old with brown spiky hair and sleeveless t shirt, matched it. Smiling, Spike draped his jacket over the back of a chair and selected a cue, chalking the end. His opponent won the coin toss for the break. 

"Name's Rick" he said. 

"Spike." 

"Nice to meet ya, Spike. Thanks for the ten." 

Spike grinned.  _We'll see about THAT._

To his great pleasure, Spike found that they were very evenly matched. This was gonna be a challenge, and Spike loved a challenge. It was a close game, and others in the hall gathered around to watch. In the end, it was Spike who sank the last ball, winning the game. He picked up the cash sitting on the table, "Thanks for the ten."

Rick suggested they go two out of three, hoping to win his money back. Spike was considering when the front door opened and three more people walked in. He looked and his heart nearly stopped. One of the three that just entered was a young woman. She had long, straight, flaxen hair, wearing a trench coat.   _JULIA!!!_  He felt his face flushing.   _What is SHE DOING HERE??_  She turned towards Rick and smiled broadly. It wasn't Julia.   _Of course it's not her, why would it be? Idiot!_

Spike checked the people she came in with, and bingo! There was Toby. The kid with him with the long, greasy white hair had to be Greg Lynch. Lynch was apparently good friends with Rick, because the two glad handed each other, laughing, then engaged in a tribal, manly hug. Spike stood patiently, waiting. Without seeming to watch him, Spike observed Toby heading to the bar laughing and getting himself a beer. Lynch and Rick traded friendly barbs. The girl with them followed Toby to the bar and got herself a beer. Spike felt his heart aching. It was all so nightmarishly familiar, the good times he had that turned so rapidly to shit.

"Greg, you gotta meet Spike. I'm about to win my ten back from him" Rick said laughing. 

Spike smiled and waved, "Yo!" 

Lynch eyed him up and down, "Hey Spike. I'm Greg. How ya doin'?" 

Spike nodded good to meet you too. Toby Simmons, not one to be left out, bounced up to Spike with a broad smile and offered his hand, "I'm Toby!" Spike shook the hand, smiling.

Lynch decided he liked the look of this new kid and wanted to talk. He beat Rick at pool.  Impressive. This new kid looked like he might need somebody to take care of him, and Lynch excelled at that. "Buy you a beer?" he asked. 

Smiling eagerly, Spike said "thanks!"

They sat and chatted.  Spike learned that Greg Lynch was nineteen.  He described himself as a 'caretaker.'  He enjoyed helping homeless kids when he could.  Just want to help out, ya know?  "I take care of people who need to be taken care of.  I give them direction, a purpose!  A reason for being, you know?" 

Spike was watching Lynch talk. This kid was one very intense individual, very competitive. He was proud of the fact that he does not accept failure, not on his part or anyone else's, so he expects everyone's best.  Spike didn't think Lynch was as smart as he thinks he is.  He tried to come off as earnest, but didn't quite make it.   _He's definitely trouble_ , Spike thought.

The blond who had entered with them was named Rachel.  She hung on Greg's arm, totally devoted.  She tossed her hair out of her face, "So Spike, where are you from?  What brings you here?"  She had seen very few people like Spike and found him to be endlessly fascinating.  And beautiful.  She loved his accent and could listen to him talk all night. "You have gorgeous eyes.  It's fascinating, they don't match."

He pointed to his right eye "Lost it in an accident. It's fake. Yeah, they couldn't find one that matched the real eye.  That's ok, at least I can see with it."  

She leaned in close to get a good look at it.  Spike could smell her hair and the cologne she was wearing.  From Rachel's conversation, he could tell she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer.  She came off as frivolous, vacuous even.  She seemed like the type of girl who was attracted to power.  With this crowd, Greg was it. 

Spike avoided talking about himself as much as he could except to tell them that he moved around a lot.

Lynch was surreptitiously studying Spike.   _Can we use him?_  He seemed lost, but not lost. Spike wasn't saying how old he is, but he thought sixteen wouldn't be far off.  MAYBE seventeen.  He didn't trust this strange kid, but wanted to learn more.  Lynch smiled, "What are you doing tomorrow?  Why don't you come see me, we can talk." 

***

It wasn't his first choice of how to spend an evening, but Jet decided to wait with Mike to see how Spike made out. Mike ordered a pizza and produced some beer, and the two chatted about the years intervening between their last meeting. Mike mostly wanted to talk about his kid brother. Jet listened. Mike Simmons was nineteen years older than his kid brother Toby. His parents were somewhat advanced in age when Toby was born. They weren't expecting any children at that age, so he was a surprise. Mike surmised they were by then ill equipped to handle a high spirited boy like Toby. They adored their baby, but being in their forties, they were tired and wanted to relax but they had a borderline hyperactive child on their hands. Mike tried to help, but he was married at the time and had his own kids. With his full time job on the police force, was not able to be there for his baby brother when he was growing up. With the pressures of his job, his own marriage dissolved. Ex wife took his children and moved to the next city. He rarely saw her or the children, so all he had left was Toby. He tried to be there for him, but he failed at that too, just like his marriage. He was sick at the thought that his little brother was going to be lost too. His parents were beside themselves. They tossed him out like they had done many times before, but he always came back. This time he didn't. They feared he was lost forever.

Jet's heart broke listening to him talk. He found himself regretting not getting to know this man better when he met him earlier. He couldn't have been there for him and there was nothing he could have done for him, but if listening to him now would help, he was glad to do it. He didn't say much, but there wasn't much he COULD say. Just let the man talk.  _He adores his baby brother and wants to do right by him._ Jet could certainly understand.

It was by now late in the evening and Jet was starting to worry about Spike. It was four hours since he left and he hadn't heard from him. He didn't know how sending him into that situation would affect his partner. He jumped when his communicator chimed. Pulling it from his pocket, he saw it was a call from Spike. 

Eagerly he answered "Where are you? Are you all right?"   
  
"I'm fine. Where are you?"

Jet told him he was still at Mike's house, meet him there, then hung up. Mike had his eyes closed, not daring to hope.

Several minutes later, the doorbell rang. Mike answered and let the young man into the house. There's pizza and beer, help yourself. Spike dug into the food hungrily with thanks. The two men waited for him to finish his first piece before peppering him with questions. Surreptitiously, Spike sized up the men he was with and their mood as he ate. He could feel the desperation and grief emanating from the two men and wished he had better news for them.

"Thanks for the pizza! I found Toby and Lynch. They hang out at Gerraty's pool hall on Dempsey and Thirtysecond. We talked for a bit. Lynch wants me to come back tomorrow. I'm afraid I didn't get much of a chance to talk to Toby. Couldn't get him alone. Gonna try tomorrow. Don't worry," he added, "I'm not done."

Mike nodded and thanked him profusely. Spike lit a cigarette and nodded. No worries.

It was getting late and Jet wanted to get home. He promised to call Mike the next day to see how he was doing and to keep him appraised of their progress. The bounty hunters left him for the night.

Hammerhead and Swordfish docked on the Bebop. The bounty hunters took turns in the shower and got ready for bed. Spike was heading to his quarters when Jet stopped him. "What do you think?"

He paused. "He seems happy. He looks nothing like that picture Simmons showed us," he said. "I don't know if he's going to want to leave, no matter what's waiting for him."

Spike threw himself on his bunk and closed his eyes, remembering the events at the pool hall. The kids that he met there were friendly and happy, like he was at their age. Rachel, the blond girl with Lynch and Toby gave him a bad moment there with her resemblance to Julia. Lynch, who seemed so outgoing and cheerful had something dangerous under the surface. He almost reminded him of Vicious, who was raised with him as his brother. He tossed and turned, wondering how he was going to get Toby to want to leave the new friends he was enjoying.


	3. Chapter 3

Spike woke early and dressed. He was reassured that he was still on the Bebop, still a bounty hunter.   _For a while there I was sixteen again. Before…_

He could hear Jet snoring in his quarters.   _No point waking him. I'll call later._  He opened the fridge and found some left over pizza that Simmons had them take back with them. Grabbing one of the pieces, he headed towards the Swordfish, eating.

"What time is it?" came the voice from behind him.  
  
Spike stopped and turned. His bleary-eyed partner was eyeing him. He smiled, "It's early. By the time I get down there and park, they should be getting up. Maybe I can catch Toby before Lynch wakes up."

Jet saw that Spike was wearing the same clothes he had on the day before.   _Damn, he looks like a teenaged punk. He should fit right in._ He took a few steps closer.  

"I'm coming down.  Where are you gonna be? These kids are recruiting for a syndicate, which means they're dangerous.  I don't want you going down there without backup. Shit, I should have come with you last night."  

Spike balked, but Jet was adamant, "Listen to me.  I'm a cop.  WAS a cop.  We do things this way for a reason.  We don't want to lose people, so everyone who goes undercover has someone watching their backs.  You have to trust me on this partner, and let me cover your back."

Spike realised Jet had a point.  He had never gone undercover before but even in the syndicate, he had someone covering his back. He knew cops did it too.  He gave Jet the address that Lynch had given him. "I'm going there to see if I can find Toby.  If I can get him alone I can talk to him. If I'm not there, I should be in the area."

"Just be careful. I won't interfere, but I'll be around." 

***

Landing his speeder near the address Lynch had given him, Spike turned off his communicator and locked it. Placing it back in his pocket, he checked his armaments one more time. His Jericho 941 had a round in the chamber as was his habit. He examined the clip he ejected, it was full. He had two full extras on him just in case. Knives were in place. He was good to go.

He walked the seven blocks to the house and looked up at it from the street. Large and brick, it looked Victorian in style. He nodded in approval at the large, well maintained house.   _I wonder who pays the bills on this thing._  People like Lynch tend to be underwritten by the syndicates they are recruiting for. Golden Asp was small and just getting started, would they have the funds to maintain this place?

It was still early. The pizza he ate back on the Bebop was wearing off so he started down the street to the diner he had passed on his way to the house. 

"Spike!" 

He stopped and turned to see Toby coming down the front steps. Not believing his luck, Spike smiled. "Yo!"

"Where ya headed?"  
  
"Thought I'd get something to eat. You hungry?"  
  
"Yeah! There's a diner just down the street, I was just on my way there myself. Let's go."

They walked, Toby chatting excitedly. Spike listened. "My parents threw me out of the house a month ago. I kept getting in trouble and they couldn't handle it." He snorted "You know parents, they're always so stuck on rules an' shit. Telling us what to do. We don't need people telling us how to live our lives, do we?" Spike nodded, but said nothing. "Yeah, I didn't have any place to go, my friends' parents are as stupid as mine so I couldn't stay with them. Then I met Greg. He's so cool. He took me in and gave me a place to live. He's a really good guy, you'll like him!"

They reached the diner and entered. The diner hadn't reached the busiest part of the morning yet, so there were plenty of booths to choose from. Toby selected one back in the corner where they could talk in private.

"Parents threw you out, eh? Think they meant it? Or were they just pissed?"  
  
"I don't know. Who cares, I never liked living there anyway." He paused "I do miss my brother though."  
  
"You have a brother? What's HE like?"  
  
"He's like twice my age, so I can't really talk to him about things, he wouldn't understand. He's a cop, works for the county. A deputy." 

Spike noted a touch of pride in Toby's voice. "Why didn't you go stay with him? He didn't want you?"  
  
"I can't stay with him. He worries too much, just like mom and dad. Always wants to know where I am, what I'm doing, when I'm gonna be home, that sort of shit. I don't want people worrying about me. I can take care of myself."

The waitress left coffee for the two youngsters in the booth and took their order. Toby said he didn't have much money, but Spike told him he'll get it. Get what you want. "Thanks!!"

"So what about you?" Toby asked his new friend. "You said last night you moved around a lot. Where do you live now?"  
  
Spike shrugged "No place in particular.  Don't really stay in one place for too long, you know?"  
  
Toby gave him a knowing look "Your parents throw you out too?"  
  
Spike shook his head, "Ran away. Couldn't stand my life, so I got out. Now I wander."  
  
Toby asked him if he had any brothers or sisters. 

"I have an older brother. He USED to be a cop. He worries too, just like yours does."  
  
"Drive ya crazy?" Toby asked. 

Spike laughed. "Yeah, sometimes. But it's nice to know someone cares." He looked directly into Toby's eyes, "If they didn't care, they wouldn't worry, right?"

Toby looked taken aback. He hadn't considered that. He chewed on Spike's last statement as their breakfast was delivered.

"So tell me about Greg. What have you guys been doing since you moved in with him? You guys playing pool all day?"  
  
"Mostly delivering packages. Yeah, he gave me a JOB an' shit. He doesn't say what I'm delivering, but it's expensive as hell. I drop off the package, they give me a shit load of cash, then I bring it back to Greg. Easy stuff."  
  
"Sounds boring," Spike yawned.  
  
"Well, they said I won't have to do it all the time. He took me to this place a friend of his owns. They're teaching us how to shoot guns. Shit, in another few months I'll have my own gun. YEAH!"  
  
"Oh yeah? Cool! What do you think you'll be doing that you'll need to carry a gun?"

Toby shrugged. Between forkfuls of bacon and eggs, "I dunno. He's got a guy who's going to teach me how to fight. So I'm gonna learn how to shoot AND fight. Greg said it's just a game, but will boost confidence."

_That sounds familiar_  Spike thought with a chill. He sighed to himself. His hash, eggs and bacon breakfast wasn't nearly as appealing now as it was when it was first delivered, but he forced himself to eat it anyway.

"What about you? You have a gun?" Toby was asking. Spike nodded. Toby was awed. His new friend wasn't much older than he was and he had a gun, just like Greg, Rick and some of the others! "Ever shoot anyone?"   
  
Spike considered his answer. Finally he nodded, "Yep."  
  
Toby was ecstatic, this kid is the coolest ever! He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Ever KILL anyone?"  
  
Spike reminded himself that he was supposed to be a teenager, but what the hell. "Ya."  
  
"What was THAT like?" he asked eagerly. 

They had finished eating, and were lingering over coffee and cigarettes.

"Well, when you shoot someone, sometimes they scream. Blood flies.  Hit them just right and you can remove a limb. Get in a head shot and you see brains. All over the place. It's pretty gross." He puffed on his cigarette looking off into space. "'Disgusting' is a better word. Ever smell blood after it's been out lying around for a while?" Toby shook his head. "You'll never forget it. And there's nothing like the feeling of seeing a dead man and knowing you're the one who killed him." Spike glanced at Toby, "You just have to try to not think about the guy's family and friends and how much they're going to miss him, you know? Avoid the funeral afterwards if at all possible.  It's a pain being around people crying about someone you just killed, you know?"

Toby was in shock. Spike's words were totally unexpected. He realised he knew nothing about this kid he was talking with. He was the epitome of cool, but it sounded like he had Done Things.  Yeah.  He'd Done Things that Toby thought were cool the day before. Listening to Spike though, he thought that they didn't sound cool at all. In fact, they sounded horrible.

Spike saw his look and smiled, changing the subject. "You don't like rules, do ya?"  
  
Toby shook his head. "I make my OWN rules."  
  
"So Greg doesn't have any rules you have to follow? That's awesome!"  
  
"Well, now that you mention it…."

Spike looked up as the diner's door opened. Greg and Rick entered, all business, looking around. They spotted Spike and Toby at their booth. Suddenly all smiles, they sauntered over. "Hey, what are you doing here? You guys already eat?"

They sat down in the booth, pushing Spike and Toby towards the wall, effectively trapping them.

Listening to Spike, Toby had started to think about his parents and his brother in a different light.  Greg and Rick too. Yeah, they DO have rules.  Strict ones too that they tried to make Toby think were his own rules, but they weren't.     _They want to teach me to shoot and fight? Why?_  He was suddenly very uncomfortable with them. He just wanted to go off by himself and think. Spike just looked nonchalant, 

"Yeah, just finished."

Greg, who had sat down next to Spike, turned and studied him. Spike gave him his best innocent look, "How ya doin'? You said 'come back tomorrow.' It's tomorrow and I came back. Toby was on his way out for breakfast as I was walking by, so we thought we'd stop and grab a bite. I recommend the hash, eggs and bacon. Killer shit!"

Rick was watching Toby, who had started to perspire. Greg looked to Rick, then Toby and saw the discomfort in the kid that wasn't there yesterday.   _Last night he was having fun and was totally at ease. Now it looks like he's scared of us._   He laughed suddenly, clapping Spike on the shoulder, "Yeah, the hash is great. It's my favorite, right Rick?"

"Right!  So what are you guys talking about?" Rick asked.  
  
"Oh, just family and what a pain they can be," Spike responded.

Greg nodded. "So you guys up for a little FUN?"


	4. Chapter 4

Greg and Rick woke up to find their headcount was one short.  Toby was gone.  They went looking for him and found him at the diner with this new kid that Greg wanted to check out. Last night Toby was all eager for whatever was planned for him, but now he seemed scared. This Japanese kid had to have been saying something to him. What is he doing here and what does he want?  And what the hell was he saying to Toby?  Suspicious now, Greg didn't like it and intended to find out.  

During his syndicate training, Greg was told that sometimes families tried to retrieve their lost kids by sending in private investigators or bounty hunters and that he should be on the lookout.  If the kid was just starting out and didn't know anything, he should just let him go.  They didn't want to get involved in family squabbles or attract undue police attention.  But Greg was not one to let his kids go.  He found them, he recruited them, he was going to keep them. 

They herded Toby and Spike into the back seat of Rick's car that was parked out front.  Rick threw it in gear and started driving.

_Is this kid working for a private investigator or bounty hunter?_  Lynch turned around from the front passenger seat.  "Got a communicator on ya?"  Spike indicated that he had.  "Let me see it."  Spike handed it over and Lynch turned it on.  "This thing's locked."

"Yeah, force of habit,"  Spike smiled. "Sorry."  
  
"Whose numbers do you have programmed in here?"  
  
"My bookie. A few people that owe me money. Why?"  
  
Greg fought down a growing annoyance "Unlock it please."  
  
Spike's smile broadened "Get yer own fuckin' bookie."

Toby blanched.  Greg wasn't happy and cheerful any more.  Now he was angry and hard, and looked... dangerous.  And Spike wasn't scared of him!!   _Holy shit._

Greg and Spike faced each other down, neither yielding.  Spike refused to unlock the communicator, and what are ya gonna do about it, asshole? They were in a moving vehicle so he decided this would be a poor place to try anything, not wanting Toby to get hurt.  He caught sight of him from the corner of his eye.   _Things aren't fun and games with these guys any more, are they kid?_

Spike waited for Greg's next move.  Greg pocketed Spike's communicator then pulled out his own and made a call.  "Get the graduates together and meet us at Ground Zero."

***

Jet dressed then finished off the pizza.  He passed through the empty living area heading for the Hammerhead then took off for Wexfordshire.  He was worried. To his knowledge, Spike had never gone undercover before.  He hoped he'd be careful, not just for Toby's sake but for his own.   Jet located the neighborhood and found the Swordfish parked in a lot nearby.  He landed the Hammerhead next to the Swordfish then headed off in the direction of the address Spike had given him.   

On his way to the house, he approached a diner. A group of young people came pouring out of it, one of them he recognised as Spike. Toby was with him, looking scared.  Two others, a broad-shouldered kid with brown spiky hair and another slender kid with long greasy hair were shepherding them into the back seat of an old, red Toyota.  Jet made note of the tag on the car as it sped off. 

Jet ran back to the Hammerhead and quickly lifted off.  He spotted the car below and followed from a height and distance that wouldn't be noticed by the car's occupants.  He dialed Mike's number.  It was answered on the first ring. 

"JET!!  Have you found him?"  

Jet quickly gave him the description of the car, its tag, location and heading.   "They have Toby and Spike.  I'm following in my mono carrier, but if you can get some squad cars to follow them, it will help.  Make sure they keep some distance though, we don't want to spook them."

Mike called it in, then jumped in his own car and sped off in the direction that Jet gave him.  

***

Spike noted that the car was heading out of the city.  "So we going on a picnic or something?"

"Who are you?  WHAT are you?  And what are you doing HERE?"  
  
"I'm Spike. I played pool with Rick here at Gerraty's last night.  We talked and you told me to come back today.  I did.  What's YOUR problem?" 

"Greg, what's going on?  What did he do?  And where are we going?" Toby asked nervously.   
  
"What's wrong with YOU?" he asked.  
  
"What?? Me? What do you mean?"  
  
"You were cool yesterday. Now you're not. What did this kid say to you?"   
  
"NOTHIN', I SWEAR! It was like he said, we were talking about family and what a pain they can be."  

Spike nodded "It's true."

Spike was glad he told Jet where he was going to be.  He didn't know if he'd gotten there yet, but if he was looking for him in the neighborhood, he'd never find them.   _So much for THAT,_  he thought.   
  
"How old are you, Spike? Really," Greg asked.  
  
"I'm twenty four," Spike replied calmly.

Rick threw his head back and laughed.  Lynch just sputtered,  "I THOUGHT YOU WERE SIXTEEN!"    
  
Spike just shrugged. "You shoulda asked. I'd have told ya.  What difference does it make?"

Toby was reeling.  The guys who he thought were his friends were angry with him, and acting really scary.  This Japanese kid who he thought was going to be his friend turned out to be older than he thought.  
  
"So what are you? A cop? Private investigator?  Bounty hunter?" Greg persisted, recovering.

Toby looked in shock over at Spike.

"Who says I'm any of those things?  I was enjoying everyone's company last night and came back because you invited me," Spike told him, hoping reason could bludgeon its way into the thick pea brain that was calling the shots.

They had reached the city limits on their way out to the private land they had the use of.  Rick was still laughing, "He's got ya there, buddy.  He's right."

Greg grinned suddenly. "Apologies.  I was worried about my young friend here," he said motioning to Toby, "and wanted to make sure you weren't trying to get him into trouble."  He turned and faced forward, his grin fading.  

***

_Shit!  What the hell happened?_   Jet kept the red Toyota in sight as it wound its way out of the city.  His communicator chimed.  It was Mike, asking where the vehicle was now.  Jet gave him the location and heading.

Mike's stomach tightened, "Sounds like they're heading to this meadowland where a number of these kids' bodies were turning up.  There's an abandoned barn on the property, they could be heading there."   

"Great."

Spike asked some good questions the night before.  If this new syndicate had been around for nine months to a year, and if they were using home grown 'talent,' that means they're going to be pretty inexperienced.  Inexperienced people make stupid mistakes.   He hoped Spike could handle himself.  In his twenty four years, the kid must have been through the hell of syndicate warfare, but most of the people he would have dealt with were professionals.  He had no doubt at all that Spike was himself a pro.

Jet almost felt sorry for those kids.  He thought he knew what Spike was capable of, but he guessed he didn't know the half of it.  Those kids had no idea what they were messing with.

Jet's communicator chimed another call from Mike.  Bad news.  The police would not be sending any cars in pursuit of the red Toyota. There was a major bust going down in the city and they were going to need all available units.  "Apparently, we don't have enough evidence that a crime is in progress for them commit the resources.  We're on our own."

***

Rick navigated the Toyota down a road that was becomingly increasingly sparsely populated.  He turned onto a dirt road, heading towards a barn on the left-hand edge of a large field, near some woods.  He looked in the rear view mirror and saw the two cars full of kids that were behind him.  Their graduates.  He smiled.

Toby was nervous "Greg. Rick.  Where are we going?  What are you gonna do?"  
  
"Just a party. You like parties, don't you?"

Toby looked over at Spike.  He looked calm, deep in thought. Who IS this guy?  He looked sixteen, but was twenty four.  He said he killed someone, but what if he killed more than one person?  It got him wondering now if Greg and Rick ever killed anyone.  He decided he didn't want to hang with killers. Suddenly, his parents with their rules and shit didn't sound so bad.

The car stopped outside the barn.  Cars following pulled up behind him, disgorging their occupants.  Greg and Rick got out of the car and opened the back doors for Spike and Toby to exit. They led their two charges into the barn, the others following.

Spike looked around at the assembly gathered there.  He counted twelve, including Greg and Rick.  Spike was surprised to see Rachel there as well. She was wearing a grin that looked to him like it hungered for blood.  

It was an old barn, looked like it hadn't been used in years. He saw the bales of hay piled up but never used. It was all dried out and not good for anything any more.  It took a moment for him to size up cover in case it was needed.  He found some possibilities.

He shoved hands into pockets and waited for Greg to get the party started.  Amazingly enough, nobody was frisking him.   _Fucking amateurs._

Rick had pulled Greg aside and was whispering to him. Greg's face reddened in fury.  He nodded.

Greg introduced the kids that joined them as their Graduates. He looked at Toby and studied him.  "What do you think, buddy?  You're having a good time with us, right?  Aren't I taking care of you?"

Toby nodded, swallowing hard "Yeah! You're taking REALLY good care of me! I think you're a blast."  
  
Greg nodded, "Think you're going to want to stick with us? BE somebody?" 

Spike lit a cigarette, then shoved his hands back in his pockets, waiting for Toby's answer.

Toby stammered.  He looked around at kids who he considered friends.  They were always friendly and happy.  Now they looked... different.  Dangerous. It occurred to him that he didn't know them at all.  "You know what?  It's been fun.  I really like you guys a lot, but I think I'm gonna go home now.  If that's all right, of course."

Pissed off, Greg remembered what he was instructed, that Rick just reminded him of.  "Ok, fine.  There's the door.  You know the way back to the city, don't you?"  

Yeah, Toby knew the way, but he didn't want to go alone.

"Yeah, I can find my way.  C' mon, Spike, let's go."

Spike grinned at the crowd, and waved "Seeya" to one and all and moved to follow Toby out of the barn.  Rachel and Rick blocked his way.  Toby stopped in alarm, hesitating at the door.  Spike waved him on, "You go ahead.  I'll catch up." 

Wanting to get the hell out of  there, Toby ran.

Spike turned back to Greg. "So who brought the picnic basket?  I'm starving."

***

Mike Simmons gunned his car for all it was worth. He knew how to get to the barn where this syndicate wannabe liked to dispose of bodies, praying that Toby was ok.  He turned onto the dirt road leading up to the barn and saw a familiar figure running his legs off in his direction. It was Toby!!

He slammed his foot on the brakes and threw the car into Park, jumping out to meet his kid brother.  Mike grabbed him in a hug then dragged him to his car and climbed in beside him.  They were a half mile from the barn, he was watching for anyone following Toby as well as any new cars coming up behind them.

Toby was crying.  "I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!"  

Mike hushed him. "Are you ok?  Are you hurt?"  

Toby shook his head, he's ok.  "Mike, take me home?  Please?"  

Mike nodded, "Yes, I'll take you home.  But I have to check on something first.  Where's Spike?"  

Toby's eyes bulged, "You know him?"  He pointed to the barn. "He's in there with the others." He heard the sound of a mono carrier landing nearby.  Toby was wiping his eyes and trying to compose himself when  Mike jumped out and ran over to the big, bald scary-looking dude who jumped from the mono carrier to the ground. 

Toby gaped at the massive dude with the mechanical arm.  He was grim-faced as he followed Mike back to the car. 

"Whatcha got?"  

Mike opened the trunk and pulled out his shotgun.  Big guy nodded and pulled out an enormous hand gun and checked the load.  He stopped by the car and looked at him. 

"You Toby?"  

He nodded dumbly.  

"How many are in there with Spike?"  

He closed his eyes for a moment trying to remember. "Ummmm, I think twelve. Yes!  There are twelve."

"Glad you're all right kid. Stay here."

His brother and the massive dude trotted towards the barn.  He heard him tell Mike that Spike was going to try to get out of there without bloodshed and that they didn't know what they were messing with.

Jet and Mike got halfway to the barn when they heard gunshots.  Smoke started roiling out of one end of the barn. SHIT!!  They broke into a run.    

Feeling brave now that his big brother was here, Toby jumped out of the car and followed them.  They reached the smoking barn as a teen came staggering out clutching his bleeding stomach, blood was pouring from his mouth and nose before he fell dead in the grass, blood pooling under his body.


	5. Chapter 5

Lynch sneered.  This joker has to know he's in trouble and he's cracking jokes "You're quite the comedian aren't ya?"   
  
"I'll be here all week."

Spike turned to the others. "So... you guys are the GRADUATES, huh?  What does it take to graduate from this little school from hell?"   
  
"You have to kill somebody," Rachel answered. "It ain't hard, you just need to point, aim and shoot."

Greg was pacing, circling Spike, who stood smoking his cigarette. He didn't know whether he admired this clown's cool or if he was pissed off by it.  He saw the others watching him and this Spike.  He was bothered that this kid wasn't afraid of him, in fact he was looking like quite the tough guy himself.  He already knew too much, so they were going to have to dispatch him just like the others.

Not wanting to look weak, "So what's your story?  What did you say to Toby?  He was all gung ho to join us until you opened your mouth."  
  
Spike blew smoke and shrugged. "Damned if I know.  We were just talkin'.  Now that you mention it, he WAS acting kind of squirrely.  Maybe you're better off without him."  He flicked ash, "Not everyone's cut out to be a graduate."

Lynch's circling was bringing him closer and closer to Spike.  He noticed, expecting an attack. The smile Spike wore moments ago had turned into a snarl, making some of the kids anxious.  Reflexively, he relaxed totally.  Lynch struck, or tried to.  The expected kick was efficiently parried.  The leg was grabbed, twisted and lifted, sending him flying.   _Karate, maybe brown belt_ Spike figured, recognising the move.

Another brave, confident soul tried his luck only to see the bottom of Spike's shoe just before it struck him across the head.  A spinning back kick knocked him into a bale of hay.

It was dawning on the graduates that they didn't want to engage this feral stranger in hand to hand combat.  Guns were drawn and aimed right at Spike.  Rick spoke up. "You need to empty your pockets.  Now."  
  
 _It's about damn time, you fuckin' wannabes._  "Sure." 

He held up his left hand. With his right, he reached around to his back hip pocket. Fingers closed on the hilt of the knife he had sheathed there.  With lightning speed, he threw it underhand and caught Rick in the bicep.  The pain opened his hand, gun clattering to the floor.  Spike dove for cover behind the nearest bale of hay as the graduates opened fire. He took the still glowing cigarette butt out of his mouth and flicked it into a stack of bales at the other end of the barn.  The hay was as dry as it looked and ignited almost immediately, filling the place with smoke.

The sound of coughing, cursing and gunfire joined the smoke in filling the barn.   _Shit, these are just kids! Kids that are trying to kill me. Fuck it._  He kept his head down to avoid the smoke.  This was going to have to be finished quickly before the barn collapsed around his ass. The graduates couldn't see through the smoke, but Spike could. He started picking them off as they came into view.  Eight down, four to go.

He spied Rachel, who dove for cover near where Spike was hiding. She saw him and fired, the bullet catching him in the arm.  The gun flew out of his hand.  Completely pissed off now, he pulled a knife with his left hand and threw it, catching her in her left eye.  She dropped, body convulsing.   _Goddamn it!_

Rick had gotten back up and started firing blindly into the barn, one of his bullets grazing Spike's cheek.   He picked up his gun with his left hand and fired, catching him amidsection.  Rick turned and staggered out the barn door before he too went down.    _Three left._

"Spike!!"  
  
"Jet?"

By now half the barn was fully engulfed in flames.  It was spreading quickly, so he had to get out of there.  He spied another kid, who had gotten up, saw the writing on the wall then ran for the door.  Jet grabbed him by the nape of the neck and threw him to the ground. Another followed, who was grabbed by Mike.

Only one left.

"I'm coming out!" he yelled, then launched himself towards the door.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure throw itself through the burning wood at the other end of the barn. 

Jet was there to catch him as he exited the barn that was now fully ablaze. Mike cuffed the two survivors that he and Jet had nabbed and was leading them away from the flaming structure.

"There's one more.  I saw him diving through the burning wood at the other end."  

Jet watched the survivors as Mike trotted off in search of him.  
  
"What about the others?" Spike's grim expression answered the question for him. He sighed and shook his head.  
  
"All they were interested in was killing people. They didn't care who or why."

Jet checked his partner over for injuries and saw the gash on his cheek and blood on his jacket sleeve.  "Come on, let's get you fixed up."  They turned and saw Toby standing there with dropped jaw. Incensed, Jet roared, "Didn't I tell you to wait in the car?"

Toby surveyed the carnage.  Spike was bleeding and looked pissed as hell.  "What the hell happened?"  
  
Spike looked at him bitterly "Just a taste of what they had planned for you."

Jet put his arm around Spike's shoulders and started leading him to the car with Toby following close behind.  

Mike caught up with them. "He ran into the woods. I'll call it in when we get back to the car.  Do you know who it was?"  
  
"I think it might have been Lynch. He's the only one I couldn't account for."   
  
"Damn, you're hurt! I have a first aid kit in the car."

Mike scolded Toby for leaving the car.  Shaking his head, he wrapped his arm around his kid brother's shoulders in a hug. "Come on, mom and dad are gonna want to see YOU."

Mike herded the shocked survivors ahead of him with his shot gun.  He opened the back door of his car, shoved the kids inside then closed the door.  He radioed dispatch, requesting fire department support and some squad cars to respond to the shootout and fire at the barn on the Powers' property. There were casualties. Jet was easing Spike's jacket off as Mike popped the trunk to get to the first aid kit.  

Spike's arm had a nasty flesh wound that was bleeding profusely.  Shrugging off Mike's help with an "I got it," Jet stopped the bleeding, cleaned the wound and bandaged it tightly.  Then he went to work on Spike's cheek.

Sighing, Mike walked over to his kid brother who was watching Jet bandage Spike's arm.   _Fifteen years old and he's seen things that nobody of any age should have to see,_  he thought.  "You ok?"  
  
"Who are these guys, Mike?"

Mike explained to Toby how he knew Jet and about the call he placed asking for help because his kid brother was getting involved with a syndicate.  He told him Jet said he had a partner who was young and may be willing to help. He met Spike who was very young and looked even younger. Spike went in to meet him, risking his own life to talk to him.  No, he knows nothing about Spike, but after what he saw of him today, he must have been through a lot in his young life and wanted to protect him from having to experience the same things.

Toby was awed.  He hugged his big brother. "They were so cool and so much fun. I thought they liked me. They promised that I could make my own rules and I would have fun."  
  
Mike hugged him back "Depends on what they consider 'fun'."

Sirens approached. Mike heard fire trucks, ambulances and police cars. Blue and red flashing lights appeared at the end of the dirt road, they were almost here.  Good.

Toby and Mike walked to the back of the car where Spike was sitting on the bumper.  Jet was just finishing up swabbing Spike's cheek.  They were talking quietly.   _Jet must be this 'big brother' he told me about,_ Toby thought.  Funny, he's an anglo.   _Must be from a different mother._

Heads turned to watch the flashing lights approach when a rustling was heard in the underbrush behind them.  Mike whirled to see a badly burned individual stagger out of the woods, gun in hand.  Wild-eyed, the apparition raised the gun and pointed it at Toby.  Mike moved instinctively as the gun fired, bullet catching him between the shoulder blades.  Jet reacted quickly, pulling his weapon and capping the scorched creature between the eyes.

Jet and Spike both rushed to join Toby who was on his knees over his fallen brother.  "Toby..." he gasped.

***

The next few hours were a blur for Toby.  Ambulance carted Mike away, police had a thousand questions, mostly for Spike.  The two surviving graduates in the back seat of Mike's care were hauled off to jail.  The smell of smoke and burning flesh stuck in his throat.  That other smell, the unfamiliar one that was gagging him the most must have been from the blood from Mike and Greg that was sitting there after they were shot.  Daring to look, he saw Greg's brain spattered on the trees and underbrush behind where he was standing.  He remembered vomiting. That was Spike holding his head and stomach, murmurring to him as he unloaded his breakfast on the grass.

Toby received another ride in the back of a police car, but this time the cop was taking him to the hospital where Mike was taken.   Spike got in the mono carrier with his own big brother and headed to the hospital themselves.

Cop and Toby arrived to find Spike and Jet were already there along with almost a dozen cops.  His parents were there too. When his parents caught sight of him, they hugged him tearfully, so sorry they threw him out, it will never happen again. They loved him so much! All he could do was cry. He just wanted his brother.

After an eternity of waiting, a middle-aged red-haired woman wearing light green scrubs emerged from the double doors hiding the hallway to surgery and asked to speak to the Simmons family.  She pulled Toby and his parents aside and spoke to them quietly. Jet, Spike and the cops watched them anxiously. Her face was serious.  The Simmons listened to her words. Mother burst into tears, sobbing desperately.  Father, stoic, hugged her and his son who had also dissolved in tears.  

Mike was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Sheriff deputy Michael Simmons was given a hero's funeral. Every cop, squad car, fire truck and ambulance that could be spared joined the procession to the cemetary. His parents and kid brother rode in the black limosine immediately following the hearse. Jet and Spike followed in a rental car near the end of the procession. It was a quiet ride for the bounty hunters. Jet hoped he convinced Spike that it wasn't his fault. Spike reviewed the events at the barn and realised that the actions of these kids was out of his control. Didn't make him feel any better. At least Toby got out safely. The rest was going to have to be up to him.

The priest intoned the final prayers over the coffin.  The Europa flag draped over the coffin was presented to his mother, who accepted it tearfully with a nod.  Ceremony over, the crowd disbursed.  Toby spied Spike, arm in a sling, standing with his brother near the edge of the mourners. Jet looked grim, wearing a dark suit.  Spike was wearing a blue suit and yellow shirt, his face mournful.  They turned to head back to their home.  

Toby broke away from his parents and ran over to him, "Spike!"

Spike turned to face the boy who had called out to him.  Toby stood facing him for a few moments at a loss for words.  Suddenly he hugged the tall, lanky Japanese kid tightly. 

"You told me the truth. You were right.  About everything," he whispered to him.  

Spike hugged him back. "I'm sorry Toby.  I really am."  

Toby broke loose and dragged the back of his hand over his face to dry the tears.  "I won't forget what you said. Thank you!  I owe you big time."  

"Just give your parents a chance.  Take care of them.  You're all they have now."  He paused, "One more thing.  Beware of cool, fun individuals who promise you a lifetime of fun and no responsibility. They're nothing but trouble."  

"You GOT it!" 

***

The bounty hunters travelled back to the Bebop in silence, both men lost in their own thoughts.  Not able to fly the Swordfish with his wounded arm, Spike rode with Jet.  He was crouched on the floor of the Hammerhead next to Jet's left leg, refusing to ride in the storage compartment he nicknamed 'the coffin.'  His arm was throbbing and the gash on his cheek was itching.  He just wanted to get away from Europa and memories of these fucking homicidal maniac kids.  He was comforted by the thought that maybe Toby would make it.  Maybe the kid would get over thinking about only himself and consider someone else's feelings. No matter where you lived or what you did, you are going to have to follow someone's rules.   _He's fifteen, maybe he'll learn... if he lives long enough._

It was late for them, not being fully acclimated to the time zone in Wexfordshire. Once back home on the Bebop, they said their goodnights and headed off to their respective quarters to sleep.  

Sighing, Jet got ready for bed. He sat staring at his bonsai for several minutes before deciding he was too tired to groom them.  They still gave him a sense of peace... natural beauty of which he was custodian.  He turned out the lights and laid down, covering himself, trying to settle himself into the sleep he needed.  He waited for sleep, but couldn't get the vision of Mike's face asking for his help out of his mind.  Then the funeral.  Shit.

He was startled by a cry he heard coming from Spike's quarters.   _He hasn't screamed in his sleep in almost a month. This shit is gonna start it up again, I'm sure._

Shit!  Sighing, Jet threw off the blankets and padded down the corridor to check on his partner.


End file.
